Wednesday, March 28, 2012

One of the perks, in my five year old mind, for taking ballet lessons was getting to wear a beautiful tutu. I wanted a pink one more than words could say and I just assumed it would magically appear at my first dance class.

It did not.

But I was a patient albeit fidgety dancer-- positive I would someday be a famous ballerina with a closet filled with tutus, so I waited... thinking at the end of the dance class year I would have "earned" my magnificent tutu, like an angel earns their wings, in time for our dance recital.

No tutu then either. Not by a mile.

In preparation for our dance recital, which was to be performed on a huge stage with a gigantic audience of about 100 family members, we budding prima ballerinas sat on the floor at our dance studio and received two pink Kleenex tissues and a couple of pieces of string.

There, our five year old hands worked diligently to make tissue carnation flowers. We carefully folded the tissue into a fan, then folded it in half, tired the string around the center, and fluffed the tissue ends into a "flower". My flowers looked more like a couple of used Kleenex on their way to the trash but I'd done my best.

When I asked my elegant ballet teacher, who happened to be dressed in a lovely chiffon tutu, what the "flowers" were for, she happily handed me a red plastic head band to attach my "flowers" onto thereby making my dance recital costume to match my red leotard.

My young mind raced-- This could not possibly be my costume. I wanted a tutu and I wanted it for the dance recital-- now! As soon as I realized that was not going to happen, I became a very disappointed ballerina with crocodile tears rolling down my face. In fact, I have vague memories of my mother dragging me, kicking and screaming, to the recital where the idea of wearing those hideous Kleenex flowers in my hair left me in a puddle on the back seat of the car.

At that early stage of my life I learned a hard lesson about expectations. I also learned I was not a great flower maker but I did have the potential to be a pretty good ballet dance-- which I did til my early 20s.... right up until I realized I enjoyed cheeseburgers, boys and mini skirts far better than I enjoyed blistered feet, salads and tutus.

I hadn't thought of those tissue flowers until I saw one of Attila's flower wreaths. My flowers were a far cry from the gorgeous ones Attila's posse of creative geniuses makes. Their handmade flowers are turned into these stunning wreaths-- AND YOU CAN WIN ONE!

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I loved your memories about the beginning of your dance experience! I studied ballet for years, too, and will never forget my first recital: as a baby duckling with feathered diapers in a ballet version of "The Ugly Duckling." I had always been shy in class and never stood out. However, when I got on stage, saw the lights and the crowd, I came alive and burst into a frenzied, impromptu solo. My teacher had to come fetch me off the stage as my parents sank down in their seats as my two-year-old brother stood up in his seat and screamed "There she is! There's my TaTa!" It was the first sign of my zest for performing. I don't think I ever had much talent as a dancer, but I did have a lot of enthusiasm! Loved the paper wreath, by the way!

Wow you danced till your 20s how wonderful. I bet you have wonderful posture. This post reminds me of my adorable niece who pestered her mother to let her do ballet. A few classes into the term she admitted to me that she didn't really want to learn ballet she just wanted to wear a tutu. I didn't tell my sister and the little angel later took up sports instead.

I have had a wonderful 5 month blogging break and am now catching up on blogs.

Your story brought back memories of my own ballet days. For our recital, we had white sequined costumes with fluffy white tutus. They were really beautiful and I was so excited. When the recital finally rolled around, I got a massive case of stage fright and refused to go onstage. My mom was more than a little upset about it!

I can't imagine you being dragged anywhere kicking and screaming. Learning hard lessons to do with expectations at such an early age shows how advanced you were. At least you did have expectations. Do you have any pictures of the dance recital?

Oh JJ, this made me sad....I know how bad it is to want something as a kid and it just never transpires! Oh well, we learned disappointments at a young age, yes? When I was little, my mother would never buy we anything white becuase she said I'd just get it dirty. So when I became old enough I bought white shorts, white shirts, white jackets...just because....

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